Like Peter Pan and Wendy
by nepetation
Summary: Your name is Tavros Nitram and the last person you want to spend Halloween with is Vriska Serket, a girl who's teased you relentlessly for years. Maybe things won't turn out as bad as you think? You at least hope not. (humanstuck, oneshot, edited and reuploaded)


When Vriska announces she'll be trick-or-treating with you this year, you aren't what one would call pleased. It's not that you dislike the girl- though she definitely isn't the nicest person you've met-but just that you don't... trust being alone with her after sundown. Who knows what could happen? On top of this, she even says she's going as Wendy Darling from your favourite storybook, Peter Pan. She obviously expects you to dress up as the title character, but it's not like you weren't planning to otherwise.

The two of you meet outside your house and she pushes your chair from house to house while the you fill your bags with sweets. Every so often she plucks the green hat off your head and holds it where you can't reach. She laughs and says you only need to stand up and grab it. Easy as that. But then you remind her she's giving herself less time to collect candy, and she puts the hat back in place with a huff. The houses that give out pencils and popcorn balls leave her mouth pulled in a sneer. There's no discussion before she's rifling in your own bag, finding something to trade the lame treat off with. Even with all this you can't help but grin as you eye your bag of treasure. Vriska hadn't all that bad today- nothing like you'd expected. The worst she did was try pulling you up the steps of this one house and threaten to tip your chair forward. Okay, that would have been pretty bad if she'd actually pulled through with the threat, but she didn't so all in all you were happy with how the day went.

Eventually it comes time to head back, as nearly all the lights in the neighbourhood one by one go out. Vriska lets out a disappointed 'humph!' when you tell her you should get going, but nonetheless she complies and begins pushing you toward home. She stops at the top of the hill your house sits on. A drawn out silence fills the air and you twist in your seat to give her a curious look. Looking straight ahead with a piercing gaze, she says nothing for a while before suddenly snatching your bag from your lab and hooking it on her arm. Her far off expression is replaced by a leering grin as she brushes off your complaints with claims of just 'holding on to it for safe keeping'. Right, and you've got a pair of wings jutting out of your back.

Suddenly the sound of her shoes slapping against pavement echoes in your ears as she runs forward, pushing you and your wheelchair as fast as she can. You instinctively tighten your grip on the armrests and let out a sharp gasp. The wind rushing at your face forces you to squeeze your eyes shut as they begin to sting and water. Your wheelchair jostles with ever hit over a pebble. Every rattle and shake sends a jolt through your body, stricken with fear and sitting rigidly in place. You want to ask her- no scream at her- what in all things sane she thinks she's doing but the force of the wind crams your voice far into your throat. Not even a whimper passes over your lips as you feel yourself being hurtled to the bottom of the hill.

You expect she'll throw herself off sometime before you near the bottom. She'll cackle as your chair goes careening into a parked car and continue to laugh as you struggle to pull yourself back up. Would she even help you back up the hill? You wouldn't put it past her to leave you. The thought morphs into a weight that sinks to the bottom of your stomach.

For some unplaceable reason, you suddenly decide to steal a glance at her over your shoulder. So with squinting eyes and overflowing fear, you do.

The look on her face makes you unable to look away. She has her eyes closed in content against the strong gust of air. Her usual condescending smile has been replaced with grin a brimming with joy, lacking all traces of the bitterness you'd grown accustomed to. There's no malicious look in eye; her lips aren't pulled into that annoyed thin line. For once in a what seems like a very long time you are looking at Vriska being completely happy, and not at the expense of someone else. Her pristine nightgown gives an amazing contrast against the deep night sky and her ink coloured hair. It catches the glimmer of the porch lights as the houses blur on by, giving her an angelic sort of glow. You almost want to laugh at how ironic of a comparison that was. Vriska- at least the Vriska you know- is

far from anything remotely close to an angel. Yet here she is, rendering you unable to deny that even through all the teasing she is beautiful. In fact, at this moment you think she's the most beautiful thing you could ever hope to see.

You open you mouth to say something; you don't know what. Her name comes out in a stutter, snagging her attention. Her steadfast gaze flickers to meet your own muddy ones. Black hair whipping about behind her head, she looks to you with a gleam in those cerulean eyes and shouts over the wind, "Fly, Peter, Fly!"

It takes a moment for those words to register but you give her a thoughtful nod when they do. Turning to face forward again, you lean your head back against the the back of your chair and take a deep breath. The wind washing over forms a more comforting touch, rather than the previous brash strikes against your skin. As the fear begins to ebb away, you raise your arms on either side. Your eyes fall closed once more, but this time you find yourself feeling more at ease. Time seems to slow down as you literally feel yourself soaring down the hill. You don't even complain when you feel your hat whip off your head.

At this moment you're happy. You forget to worry about what will happen when you reach the bottom of the hill, opting to feel the uplifting vibe of the moment instead. For once in your restricted life you feel like you can touch the sky. You feel like you're in the sky. Vriska continues to holler and shout behind you, with such a gusto that

you're sure you'll be deaf after this. Your chair still creaks and trembles in a way as if it's threatening to fall apart right there. It's late and you're cold but at this moment you decide not to care about any of that. For once you feel carefree; it's as if there's nothing that can bring you harm.

You can only wish that this feeling will last.


End file.
